


Forget to Bring Your Jacket (Wrap Up in Me Because You Wanted to)

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Lost
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Post-Season/Series 03, but everyone still lives on the beach together, kind of an au but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Kate and Claire don’t talk much.They don’t need to, they don’t expect to, and they don’t want to. Not really, anyways. There’s a way that they know each other, something inherent and intrinsic and true, and that feeling, whatever it is, is stronger than anything else they know. (Except maybe whatever forces control this island.)





	Forget to Bring Your Jacket (Wrap Up in Me Because You Wanted to)

**Author's Note:**

> Title (though a bit altered) comes from "Curious" by Hayley Kiyoko. A very upbeat, bubbly song that doesn't really transfer well to this fic at all, but something about that one line stuck with me the other day while I was thinking about Kate and Claire, and thus, this fic was born. 
> 
> Set in some kind of AU, I guess? Post Season 3 so Claire and Kate are grieving over Charlie's death and not being rescued, but for the sake of this fic, everyone is living on the beach as usual and haven't split up into tribes of sorts like they do in canon. Claire is depressed, Kate is doing everything she can to get any kind of control over the escalating situations with Jack, Locke, etc. The two of them find a bit of solace in each other.

Kate and Claire don’t talk much. 

Well, sometimes they do, but then things always get deep and dark and sad and neither of them want that, so usually they don’t.

They don’t need to, they don’t expect to, and they don’t want to. Not really, anyways. There’s a way that they know each other, something inherent and intrinsic and true, and that feeling, whatever it is, is stronger than anything else they know. (Except maybe whatever forces control this island.) 

It’s substantial, sometimes overpowering, the way they love. They don’t doubt it, don’t try to fight it, don’t try to be anything for themselves or each other that they know they can’t be. Claire is kind and scared and non-confrontational, Kate is driven and tired and too assertive for her own good, but somehow, without words, they both know how this works by now, how  _ they  _ work. 

It’s new to them, this shared devotion, but it’s strong and powerful and feels like a long time coming. Claire remembers how she felt when she first met Kate, how she had admired her, pined after her like a teen from the moment she had laid eyes on her. It’s funny looking back, how amidst plane wreckage and bloody wounds and sharp pregnancy pains, Claire had focused on Kate, like they were in an environment where even the most casual of crushes were worth even a moment's consideration. It wasn’t realistic to wish for anything here, not for rescue and certainly not for love. 

But somehow, they’re here now, together in all of their brokenness. While Claire feels so many different things, so many  _ bad  _ things— grief, frustration, sorrow, exhaustion— Kate makes her feel good, even just a little. That’s enough for her, she’s decided, maybe just because it has to be. There’s nothing else for her to rely on.

Kate is here, though. She’s always here. She meets Claire every night at this time, at this same spot near the cluster of seaweed and sand covered rocks that Claire tried to paint once but then gave up on when the Dharma acrylic was more reminiscent of glue rather than anything that could create art. 

Claire waits for her, stays away from the tension, from the fighting and the orders and the boys— Jack, Sawyer, Sayid, Hurley, they all want too much, too often. Claire thinks Kate should call the shots and so she lets her, at least when it comes to her own mind and body and wellbeing. She trusts her, knows that she has her best interests at heart, maybe more so than Claire does for herself at this point. That used to be a big deal here on this island, letting someone else fend for you; her back still aches from months of trying to carry herself upright, to be alone and okay, to not show how poorly she was bruising and stumbling. Now she just thinks that looking out for her is the truest kind of love Kate can offer her.

Once the sun has dipped low beneath the horizon and the moon has taken its place, Kate arrives. Sometimes she’ll bring food, sometimes Dharma beer or flat Merlot and they’ll sip it until they feel giddy or sad or maybe both. When that doesn’t work, when they’re not in the mood for it or if it’s just not enough, they’ll kiss until their lungs hurt, until they just  _ have  _ to do more than just kiss, and they’ll stumble to the hatch, knowing the exact amount of steps it takes to get there. They crave so many things: a proper shower (one with a kind of soap that doesn’t smell like “fresh winter mint;”  _ god,  _ Claire hates the smell by now, though she’d do just about anything to experience actual winter), a hot meal (Kate misses the premade chicken chowder the grocery store near her house used to sell and always run out of, to the point where she’d get up early just to get a container for later), and oh, the things Claire would do to ride the CBD train again, even if it meant getting stuck held up at Redfern like always. They crave so much, so many things they’ll never get, but in times like this, the only thing they can focus on is what they do have access to: each other and a stable bed. 

It’s the only thing that feels like enough for them nowadays.

“Forget to bring your jacket?” Claire asks with the slightest of smirks. It’s a familiar sentence, she’s said it before. They’ve been  _ here _ before, traipsing tipsily through these ferns and fields, often stopping to attach their lips to each other and feel a little bit more. Kate is always curled into Claire’s side, a little vulnerable as she seeks all the warmth and shelter her girlfriend has to offer. The term “girlfriend”— is that what they are to each other? They’ve never discussed it, never really had the time or the need, but Claire knows they’re exclusive, knows that no matter how much Sawyer and Jack can want and wish, Kate is  _ hers. _

Claire didn’t think she was possessive, not until now. She supposes this is the first time she’s ever had something worth holding onto, and besides, Kate is just about the last thing Claire has left. 

“I’ll be your jacket,” she says, voice a purr like it always is. She’s confident like this, sure and conscious and needing, and Kate smiles into the next kiss, relishing it. She presses her tight into the doorframe of the hatch, fumbling for the keypad while refusing to free her hands of Claire’s hips.

“I know,” she replies when the door finally opens. “I think you always will be.”

Claire doesn’t reply, doesn’t have to. They don’t talk much, anyways. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed please let me know, comments and kudos make my day! Feel free to talk to me in the comments or at my tumblr blog under the same username, sweeterthankarma!


End file.
